The Devil Beside Me
by VeniceGroove
Summary: Serenity Wheeler lands the job a million girls would die for – Seto Kaiba’s personal assistant.She is sorely tested day and night,but for a prize: Kaiba will get her the job of her dreams. However, the job a million girls would die for may just kill her.
1. The Epic Tale of Hell

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-gi-Oh. The story is loosely based on the devil wears prada. Plotlines and twists which you recognize are not mine.

**The World Is Not Enough**

_By __Venicegroove_

Summary: Fresh out of college Serenity Wheeler lands the job a million girls would die for – Seto Kaiba's personal assistant. Serenity is sorely tested day and night, but puts up with it all for the prize: a recommendation from Kaiba for the job of her dreams. However, the job a million girls would die for may just kill her. And if she survives, Serenity has to decide if it's worth the price of her soul. SxS

_"__Most people treat the present moment as if it were an obstacle that they need to overcome. Since the present moment is Life itself, it is an insane way to live.__"__- __Eckhart __Tolle_

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The light had barely turned green when the myriad of overly eager cabs and luxury sedans roared past the bucking bronco I was trying to navigate around the city streets. _Gas.__Clutch.__ Shift. Release Clutch. _I repeated in my head over and over again. However, the fact that I had actually had two whole driving lessons for stick shift vehicles did even less than it should have to comfort me. The little car bucked wildly into the intersection and then without warning, the lurching evened out and I began to pick up speed, lots of speed. I began having an anxiety attack when I saw the speedometer at 55 kilometres per hour. I could not handle this deathtrap at that speed. When I noted a cab looming dangerously close to the car's rear, I failed to notice a pedestrian step out in front of this little demon, and I could do nothing but slam on the brakes so hard that my heel snapped off. 

Damn. Third pair this month.

It was a relief when the car stalled, since I'd forgotten to clutch when I braked for that pedestrian's life who didn't even say thank you for being merciful upon his innocent soul while I was driving the devil's car. I had a few seconds to regroup, once I'd tuned out the angry honking, yelling, and several different languages of insults being thrown my way, to pull off my shoes and toss them into the passenger's seat. My hands left wet sweat stains across the leather steering wheel and I reminded myself that if the natural order of things persisted, I'd probably be called the 'dirty little mutt's relative' and told to clean it later by his highness Seto Kaiba. He would certainly notice every detail and certainly biologically link it to me with his psychic abilities that seem to prevent him from overlooking a single mistake. Oh well, 'eff him. If I am going to end up cleaning it, I might as well not be frugal in messing it up.

It's not my fault he has to own a thirty-six million yen Callaway. [about $305,000 USD

And it's stick shift of all things? Who in the hell would pay thirty-six million yen for stick shift! This is unbelievable.

"Move it, bitch! What do you think this is? Driving school? Get outta the way!" hollered an impatient driver clad in overbearing leather.

I raised my hand to give him the finger and then turned my attention back to this precious hunk of metal. Let's try this again. _Gas.__Clutch.__ Shift. Release clutch._ I'd finally negotiated the car several blocks when my cell phone beeped hyperly. I have confirmed that life cannot let me be miserable quietly, because the devil himself was calling to make my day even worse.

Caller ID confirmed: Seto Kaiba

My cursed boss.

"Serenity! Serenity can you hear me? Serenity!" His voice barked the moment I'd open the phone, no small feat considering what my eyes, hands, and limbs were contending with. I propped the phone between my ear and shoulder.

"Yes, Mr. Kaiba. I can hear you perfectly."

"Where is my car?"

Luckily I came to a red light and breathed a heavy sigh of relief that I managed not to hit anything, or anyone. "I'm in the car now. I can see Kaibacorp a few blocks away. I will be there momentarily." I figured he was beside himself with whether or not I could handle this priceless piece of machinery so I reassured him that everything was under control and that we would both arrive in perfect condition.

"Stop talking. I don't care." He cut me off midsentence. "I need you to pick up Mokuba and drop him off at home before you come back, and now that I think of it, Arisu needs to be picked up and dropped off." Click. End of Story. I had long come to realize that our conversations, no, his demands, came to an end once he provided all the information that he thought I deserved to know. First off, who the hell is Arisu? Where is she at the moment? Does she know I am to pick her up? Why is she going back to his apartment? Some girlfriend? I felt a twinge at that last statement, but chocked it up to mental incapability to imagine that man with female companionship. Voluntary female companionship. The man was as cold as liquid nitrogen. And on top of this, he was the billionaire with a mansion, nanny, chauffer, housekeeper, and probably about 20 cars in his garage. Why was I the one who had to do it?

Then again, I seem to be doing these sorts of things for him a lot lately.

The light had turned green again, and I was assaulted with unoriginal rude insults again. I pulled into a bus lane and turned on my flashers. _Breathe in. Breathe out._ This time, I gloated for remembering to apply the parking brake and use the clutch to brake. It has been years since I have driven shift, not since my poor brother Joey got his first low-end car and offered it up for a few driving lessons which I cleverly want to deny even happened. However, Kaiba didn't care about that when he called me into his office two hours ago.

_"Serenity, I need you to pick up my __car__ and drop it off. See that it gets there undamaged as I'll need it tonight for dinner with a few clients. See to it immediately__."_

_I stood rooted to the spot in front of his mahogany desk, but he'd already ruled out any protest from me. Or so he thought. "But can't you just take your __GranTurismo__?" I blurted, hoping he would be impressed that I knew the model of __his__ car without him directly telling me. It seems I had acquired an aptitude for identifying impressive mechanics since I began working at __KaibaCorp_

_"IMMEDIATELY!"__ He reinforced._

_'Whatever', I thought to myself, more bothered in calculating how many things were going to go wrong THIS time. First, where was it? __The dealership?__ Or one of the five million other auto shops in Domino. Or maybe he leant it to a friend? Wait, he doesn't like friends. That's out. Or maybe he was referring to a __new car he'd just purchased and hadn't picked up yet? Bugger if I know._

_I started by calling __Mokuba__, his sweet little brother who sympathetically was always eager to help bail me out, sometimes too eager. I called his cell phone but stupidly remembered that he was still in school. Next I called the nanny, who proved to be extremely helpful. She told me the car wasn't brand new and was in fact a "gunmetal-__coloured __convertible__" but she had no idea where it was. A phone call to his chauffer, since his chauffer had to pick him up after dropping off the car, revealed that __Kaiba__ owned a __Callaway.__ Yes! A lead! Once call to the Callaway dealership told that they had just finished touching up and installing new tires on a __gunmetal Callaway__ C16 speedster._

_I'd ordered a Town Car to take me to the dealership where I forked over a note I forged with __Seto__Kaiba's__ signature with instructions to let me take the car. No one seemed to care that I'd just marched in and demanded someone else's thirty-six million yen car. They laughed when I asked them to back it out of the garage because I had never driven stick-shift in reverse before.__ Since then, I'd made it twelve blocks in half an hour. _

I made the round of phone calls again, but this time Mokuba picked up on the third ring. School must be out.

"Hi Mokuba, it's Serenity."

"Hi! Do you by any chance know who is coming to pick me up? School let out fifteen minutes ago."

Rule #252: all Kaibas are impatient.

"I am coming for you Mokuba, but I had to pick up your brother's Callaway and I can't really drive stick. Then, we have to go pick up Arisu, whoever the hell that is."

Mokuba laughed for what felt like a day before he said, "Arisu is our German Sheppard puppy that's at the vet. She just got spayed. Seto was supposed to pick her up tonight but I guess that client dinner came up…"

"You can't be serious!? I have to pick up you, and then a German Sheppard with this two-seater Callaway and NOT CRASH!? That is never going to happen." I hollered into the phone.

"Impossible is part of your job. I don't mind if the dog sits in my lap, so can you come get me? Waiting is boring." Click. Just like his brother, only polite and relaxingly tolerable.

I managed to swing by Mokuba's prep school within fifteen minutes, and once he saw how terrible I was at shift, he made an angel's ultimatum: "You drive, I'll shift and tell you when to hit the clutch." He offered.

HALLELUJAH!!! HALLELUJAH!!!

We made it to the animal clinic in less than ten minutes, with Mokuba telling me what to do, and me obeying. This was no different than what I did for Seto Kaiba, only Mokuba was gentle, sympathetic, and genuinely trying to help, not make things worse. I applaud him for shifting left-handed. The only stress we encountered was when a cab came within three centimeters of the back bumper. At that point, I was not the only one having a panic attack, but Mokuba too.

"Big Brother hates scratches on his things." Mokuba blurted, which he really didn't have to say, because I'd be upset too if some lowly cab put a scratch on my thirty-six million yen speedster.

I gulped, "I'll keep that in mind." Which I didn't really have to say either.

"A nick in the car might cost you your job, or your life." Mokuba added. He really didn't have to say that. I feel another anxiety attack coming. _Breathe In. Breathe out._

We arrived at the clinic, and there wasn't a legal parking spot so Mokuba called the clinic and had them bring Arisu out to us. The nurse carefully showed us her belly and advised to drive carefully as the dog was experiencing some discomfort. Don't worry lady, I am driving carefully to save my life – if the dog benefits from this, that's just a bonus. On top of that, I had just enough time to field a call from Seto Kaiba demanding me to return in ten minutes.

Mokuba, still shifting, was a big more distracted this time with the dog howling in his lap and refusing to sit still. We navigated several blocks, when hell broke loose. I had to endure both Arisu's and Mokuba's howling when I accelerated too abruptly causing Arisu's to slam her paw into Mokuba's crotch when her sore spots were jolted from inertia. Mokuba, preoccupied with his own pain, stopped shifting. I nearly cried when I saw we were in fourth gear. So this is what four years of analyzing words beyond recognition, deconstructing plays, poems, literary works, lab rats, and other things that one did at college were for – comforting a German Sheppard puppy and praying your boss's brother would be able to have kids one day while trying not to destroy someone else's really expensive car.

Just what I always wanted.

I managed to skid to a stop in front of the enormous Kaiba mansion, dump Mokuba and Arisu off at the gate, and somehow managed to lurch my horrible stick-shifting skills back to Kaiba corp. I hauled my ass back into KaibaCorp, stopping at the bathroom to brush my hair and fix my make-up, as Kaiba hated being in the presence of 'dirty' commoners. He was continuously reminding me to look presentable and neat every day if I ever wanted to be viewed as anything higher than my 'mutt' of a brother. After all, he hated disorganization. Details noted, I must have spent more time fixing myself since I've been at Kaibacorp than I have my entire life.

_Not bad,_ I thought as I assessed the damage control I'd done at a rush. No one seemed to think I was dangerously close to suicide only a few minutes before. And I was only three minutes past my ten minute deadline when I finally skidded into Kaiba's office.

"Serenity, where are Mokuba and the puppy?" He asked, not looking up from his desk.

"I left Mokuba and the puppy with your doorman." I said proudly, knowing I hadn't killed anyone or left a scratch in his perfectly expensive car.

"And why would you do that?" Kaiba asked quietly, with a deadly utterance under his voice. "I specifically asked you to bring them here." His blue eyes finally met mine, and I didn't need to see them to tell that they were laughing at my mistake.

"Well, I thought you wanted them dropped-"

"Enough of your incompetence. Clearly they aren't here and I don't want explanations, I want results. Go back and get them. Return in fifteen minutes." He ordered, smirking as if daring me to protest.

I daresay I was proud to wipe the smirk off of his face when I said, "Of course, fifteen minutes."

I started shaking the moment I left his office. Was it too much to hope that he'd die from something rare and exotic to which nobody knew the cure? Maybe I could poison his food tonight and then I'd be released from this well of misery.

Then I reasoned, _You__ don't want him to die, because if he does, I relinquish the chance to kick his perfectly formed ass. If he dies, I lose all hope of killing him myself. And that would be a shame._

_

* * *

_

For Kaiba-fanatics, I know he is human. He will not be an ass the _entire_ story.

Is this story a keeper? Or delete? Review with your thoughts.


	2. The Imposter

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-gi-oh! This fic is based off of 'The Devil Wears Prada'.

_Finally! I don't expect too warm of a welcome since it has been forever since I have touched this. But for those of you who are still watching this story, here is chapter 2! I've had half of it written forever, but I finally decided to suck it up and write the other half. Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 2:

I knew nothing when I went for my first interview at KaibaCorp and unknowingly stepped onto the state-of-the-art elevators, transporters of all technology worth millions. I had absolutely no idea that just about every rider of this lift was part of an unyielding lust of the city's most well-connected columnists and media personnel. I had never seen such disciplined men and preened women, and I didn't know that it was possible to identify who was in the elevator beforehand without looking at them because of the trademark beep their cell phones make. I am told that once in a great while, those accessories get to meet their makers in those very elevators, a touching reunion for human and computer chip. I knew my life would change – but I don't know if it was for the better.

I had, until now, spent the past twenty years embracing the lower half of the Japanese economic scale in Tokyo suburbia. My entire existence seems like something out of a Japanese drama. Growing up with brother Joey had meant divorced parents, being unexpectedly formidable at school work, working hard to counteract poverty, and in the meantime going blind which has been miraculously foiled by my brother who produced enough money for corrective surgery. Go figure. I wore a uniform to school, jeans for Saturday nights, and skirts for karaoke. Then there was University. There was nothing that was impossible at University. Tokyo Daigaku had provided an outlet for almost everything one could imagine, except perhaps technology, because what college student could afford the newest gadgets? However, in the end, bumbling around the huge campus, identifying isotopes of hydrogen and writing long-winded papers did not, in any conceivable way, prepare me for Seto Kaiba.

I put off getting my first post-college job for as long as possible, though I still blame my running on Tristan Taylor, a boy engulfed in one-sided infatuation that would follow me to the ends of the Earth – literally. I did Europe by train, spending much more time eating and playing than in museums, and I barely kept in touch with anyone back home. After about three weeks, apparently my brother had formed several worst case scenarios in his head as to why I wasn't really bothering with home, braved all odds, and sent Tristan to find me. He surprised me in Amsterdam. I barely managed to escape. Not quite satisfied with this fairytale-gone-wrong encounter, I pooled my money and bought a one-way ticket to Cambodia. I worked my way through Southeast Asia, rarely spending more than 10500 Yen per day. My goals were so big. I was star struck with becoming a prosecutor. I had known that it was highly improbable that I would become one right out of college, but I was determined to become one before I was 30. I was convinced that all this worldly experience was preparing me for my new life and job (that I didn't have) and was in no rush to return anywhere. I stupidly extended my visa in Dehli to have some quality time with exotic India.

Of course, nothing ends romantic adventures more abruptly than amoebic dysentery. I lasted not even a week in an Indian hotel, begging Joey to come get me. Three days later I was fetched by Tristan and we landed in Tokyo where Joey safely took me home, clucking the whole way. It was Tristan's dream come true, an uncharming prince rescuing a damsel in distress from microscopic parasites that sent her intestines into turmoil, though he wouldn't see things this way. I was happy to be home, but being asked where I was going and followed constantly for fear that I'd flee the country was getting old fast. I finally surrendered and asked Mai if I could room with her in Tokyo. It seemed to be the only arrangement my loony brother would accept.

I woke up in Mai's tiny Tokyo city apartment, sweat-soaked. My forehead pounded, my stomach lurched, and every nerve popped and dropped in a very unsexy way. At first I assumed I had contracted delayed Malaria, but while I contemplated terminal situations, flashes of the night before came back to me. A smoky bar somewhere in Roppongi. Pulsing techno. Lights, lots of flashing lights. A bright green drink in a sake cup – oh the nausea! Surrounded by friends. Toast after toast. Ohhhh it's a hangover! I suppose being 1.7 meters and 49 kilograms did not bode well for a hard night out.

Like a martyr, I managed to tumble off of the futon I had been sleeping on for the past week and concentrated my being on not getting sick. Adjusting to Japan again – the food, the manners, the cleanliness – had been a pleasure, but sleeping on the spare futon had gone sour quickly. I had a wallet full of rupees left to exchange to try to get some cash, and I could ask for help from my brother if I wanted to trade room and board for never-ending oppression and second opinions. Poof! Like that the nausea was gone and within the hour I was on the Yamanote line listlessly dropping off resumes at major publishers, corporations, and publishers as I went. I was too weak and too tired to care if anybody read them and the last thing I was expecting was an interview. However, my phone had rung the next day and amazingly someone from KaibaCorp wanted to have a "discussion" with me. I wasn't sure if it was an interview, but maybe something would come of it.

I crammed the ibuprofen and indigestion elixir and assembled a dress and jacket that in no way matched but at least looked that they hadn't been infected by my recent bout of dysentery. A red, green and black floral print dress and a black sweater, some black flats, and brushed hair made my look. It wasn't great at all, in fact it screamed hangover, but it would have to do.

I showed up on time for my 10 a.m. interview and didn't panic until I saw the mass of black suits bustling along the lobby of KaibaCorp. Cell phones were attached to each of their ears and several nerdy type workers crunched numbers into all kinds of technology I had never seen before. I boarded the elevator and felt a sudden wave of nausea. Oh no! You will not throw up. You will not throw up. _You will not throw up!_

Moments later I sported a guest-pass tag upon my bust. Probably the obvious losers only wore these tags, and everybody known as kakkoi discarded them immediately upon receiving them. But whatever. I was going to be a loser that was going to get in, get out, and go right back to my lovely futon of sickness. I floated on the lift into the sky – the 42nd floor – and stepped into the alarmingly white Human Resources office. Chic furniture with simple designs screamed "look but don't sit" to anyone over 30 kilograms that dared to think of resting. The black heartless KaibaCorp name and logo boldly screamed for attention behind opaque glass doors. I had never had a job more impressive than an arcade worker, but I knew that corporate life just didn't look like this. Absent were the nauseating fluorescent lights, the worn hideous carpet. The girls working behind the counter looked exactly the same, as if they had been manufactured and cloned. There were no office supplies, no trash cans, no organizers and books were simply nowhere to be seen. Instead, these girls worked with a little monocle over their eye and a single, so thin that it seemed non-existent computer screen.

"THAT BASTARD! Who does he think he is to talk to me like that! I try to do one nice thing for him and he throws it back in my face!" Screeched a twenty something girl in a low-cut dress made barely appropriate for the office, making her seem more like a bartender than an office worker.

"I know I knoooow. Why do you think I got stuck here. That man is impossible! No, evil!" Agreed her friend.

I bolted past the two girls and mercifully tuned them out. These were the only two girls that did not seem like clones, and if that was the workforce that the company attracted, I would suggest cloning too. So this isn't an average work environment, but perhaps a junior high school supplemented by robots. What kind of work place would this be? Interactive? I doubt it. Nurturing? Hell no. A place you can call home? Pfft. But if fast and state-of-the-art is your thing, well, sure.

When I introduced myself to the robotic receptionist she pleasantly told me to have a seat and to browse through some of their materials, materials meaning the electronic book terminals they offered in the lobby, updated daily with periodicals and the newest releases of books, plus some classics.

A short yet pleasant woman introduced herself to me as Asagi. "You are looking for a job in business, are you? Lots of jobs out there in that these days." She asked as she lead me past rooms of computers and men in black suits. "It's a competition out there for these kinds of jobs. The pay isn't exactly outstanding, if you know what I mean."

I looked down at my cheap outfit and worn shoes, and wondered whether I should surrender and walk out. Already in deep thought about how I was going to make and exit and crawl back onto the futon with a milkshake and a thick blanket. I barely noticed when she whispered, "we have an amazing opportunity open now though. It's going to go fast!"

Hmm opportunity? She wanted to tell me and give me a chance? Did she really like me that much? Why did she suddenly sound like she was making a deal for the yakuza?

"Miss, can you tell me the name of the CEO of KaibaCorp?"

Hmm KaibaCorp. In all of my brother's duels I had heard of this name before. There were two of them or something, orphans adopted by some nasty owner of the company, because no one could stand to marry him and he needed to pass on his company to someone. Moreover, the CEO was world champion of duel monsters prior to Yugi, or something like that. But what was the elder Kaiba's name?

"Uh, Kaiba? Everybody knows him! So of course I do! I just can't seem to remember his first name right now…"

She stared at me for a moment, her large black eyes narrowing and then widening at the sign of perspiration on my face. "Seto Kaiba." She whispered yakuza style.

This woman decided to overlook my stupidity and offered me an opportunity I didn't think I deserved. I didn't know then that she was desperate to hire another assistant for Seto, couldn't know that she was desperate to stop the irritable and demanding CEO's day and night phone calls demanding information about potential candidates and insulting her when she didn't offer any promising suspects. Desperate to find someone who could handle the CEO and who he wouldn't reject, she would pay attention to anyone who seemed capable, or gullible, enough to do the job. Asagi smiled and told me I would be meeting with Seto Kaiba's two assistants.

"Two assistants?"

"Of course!" She exclaimed with exasperation. "Of course Mr. Kaiba needs two assistants. His current senior assistant Suki is going on maternity leave and will not be returning for some time. Cho, the junior assistant will be taking Suki's place. That leaves the junior assistant position open for someone!"

"Serenity, I know you just graduated from college and probably are not familiar with the workings of a business," she paused, looking for a way not to insult me, "but I feel it is my duty and privilege to tell you honestly what an incredible opportunity this is to work for Mr. Kaiba. His is the single most influential and talented figure in the Japanese economy, even the world! The chance to work for him, to watch how he works, meet his famous acquaintances, will present lifelong opportunities and will allow you to do nearly anything you want in the future. Needless to say, this is a job a million girls would die for!"

"Um, yeah…er…yes. That sounds excellent." I said while pondering why this woman was trying to talk me into a job a million other people would die for. But there was no time to question the situation. In less than a minute I was on my way to Seto Kaiba's office.

I thought this woman was a robot, but I hadn't seen anything yet. I made my way to the 45th floor and waited over a half hour in the disturbingly white reception area. Then came someone I learned to be Cho. She was short but thin and dressed in a black suit to match the company attire but a speck of personality shone through in a purple scarf she had tied around her neck. She didn't smile while she sat next to me and gave me a once-over with little interest. Without prompting, she launched into a thorough description of the job. Her uninterested voice told me she had done this dozens of times already and she did not want to get too excited about me.

"This job will be hard. We put in 14 hour days, not often, but often enough to make it regular. There is no editorial work or sticking your fingers in any company business. As the junior assistant you are responsible for anticipating Kaiba's needs and accommodating them. That may include running errands, preparing executive meeting rooms, or organizing the office. But don't worry about the type of work; you will learn a lot being in the presence of the most amazing CEO Japan has." She finally showed some life and interest with that last statement.

"Sounds great." I said, and I actually meant it. I had expected to get some entry level job in a mailroom, but here at least I would be in the presence of educated and refined people and hopefully I would adopt some of their traits and maybe even earn a few bragging rights. I had heard Mai and Tea complain often enough about their low-paying jobs, long days, bitchy coworkers, boredom, and aching feet. They spoke of many hours of staring at computers, calling people and generally annoying them with sales pitches, researching useless and irrelevant topics so their supervisors thought they did something meaningful with their day. Mai often swears that she has gotten dumber since her duel monsters retirement. I may not have come here expecting to be a maid, but it certainly seemed more interesting than the other options.

"Yes always great. Really great. Just great." Cho muttered. "I'm going to get Suki for you to meet." She left and almost instantly a thirty-something short woman appeared who had a large belly. She beamed with the pride of motherhood, but I noted she looked entirely too old for the age she seemed to be. Her frame looked haggard and her face wrinkled with every muscle movement.

"Hi, I'm Suki as you were told." She plopped down into a chair as if she could no longer stand. "I've got to leave because this little guy wants to come out very soon. My job is really great but I just can't keep working and keep after my son too. Thankfully, a million girls would die for my job and Mr. Kaiba is such a great boss that it won't be a burden that I am leaving. You can skip years of working your way up a corporation by just being here one year under Mr. Kaiba. You'll already be at the top…" She rambled on not bothering to show any signs of animation and her eyes began to glaze over in ways only achieved by the brainwashed. I felt that I could pick my nose or leave and she probably wouldn't notice.

Suki wrapped things up in the way Cho had and announced she would be bringing another interviewer out. I collapsed on the chair behind me. How much longer was this going to go on? My brain was spinning from the monotony and in the end I just wanted to know if I was going to be considered or not. I would probably take the job if they offered it, seeing as I didn't know what else I wanted to do with my life and when I finally decided it sounded as if I could ask the CEO of SoftBank for his job if I really desired it. Sounds easy enough for me.

Yet another girl came out and blabbered and I didn't even try to listen this time. It was only when she motioned me to follow her that I had finally become aware of my body, my inappropriate clothes, my plain reddish hair and grooming, and my innate knowledge of technology, computers, and this CEO. I didn't know it then, but the workers, at least the human ones, were all laughing at me between the rounds of the interview.

The woman led me to Seth Mitchell's office, the more personable junior director of the company. He was American and in my opinion far more outgoing and personable, which is why he was Kaiba's enforcer since Seth could actually get along and have relationships with people where our 'lovable' CEO couldn't. I actually listened to him because he seemed enthusiastic about the company, the first person or robot that I had met all day. He spoke excitedly about the company products and the making of the products, as well as all of the hard work and materials that go into keeping this company afloat.

"I have almost no interaction with Mr. Kaiba." He said and beamed, "So you'll need to save your specific job questions for someone who knows more about him."

When I told Seth I wanted his job, he grinned from ear to ear in that goofy western style that many Japanese girls swoon over.

"Serenity, I think it's time for you to meet Mr. Kaiba. A word of advice, keep eye contact with him at all times, don't fidget, and don't blow things out of proportion with him." Seth advised and pushed me through a set of opaque doors. We took a thirty second walk down a few hallways and then I was shoved into another room.

This one was not white like the rest, but blue with wall-to-wall windows on the city sides of the building. I hadn't seen Seto Kaiba in years and I had forgotten how _tall _he was! His eyes were alarmingly blue, but cold. The hand he held out was small boned, soft, yet powerful. His straight, stylish yet not flamboyant hair was expertly cut to hide his eyes and make him seem darker, more mysterious, and even a bit sinister. He had to crane his neck downward to look at me at first until he sat down. His greeting was no more than a grunt. He did not smile he did not speak nor did he invite me to sit. I boldly took a seat in a black leather chair while his Prussian eyes followed my every move, mentally noting my attempts at grace and importance with what seemed like amusement and scorn. Awkward and condescending he seemed to be, but not evil as everybody had suggested. He finally spoke.

"Why are you here of all places, Serenity Wheeler?" He snickered.

Now things had gone south as I started with a sour taste in my mouth for Seto Kaiba. "I interviewed with Asagi and she informed me that you are looking for an assistant." The sneer on his face faded and he nodded. I gained the courage to continue. "After meeting Cho, Suki, and Seth, I feel like I have a clear understanding of the person you are looking for and I am confident I am the person for this job." I said, remembering everything I had been told. Seto Kaiba didn't move.

Now, I had begun to want the job badly, in the way people want things that others tell them they can't have or think they wouldn't be good at. I may not be applying for graduate school, but in my apt and starved-for-success mind I wanted a challenge because I knew I could beat challenges. I felt as if I have been practicing for this my entire life. I was an imposter in the privileged world and a terrible one at that. I had known the minute I walked in here that I didn't belong. To be honest, I didn't care about KaibaCorp or its products. Therefore, I had to have it. I had to do this job. This is the job a million girls would die for.

I answered his questions about myself with a confidence and assertiveness I did not know I had. There wasn't time to be intimidated and to stutter and think about each question. Moreover, he seemed amicable enough. He might be awkward and an ice cube, but I could take orders from him for the work day. However, I faltered when he asked what languages I spoke. I told him I spoke Vietnamese and Korean.

"Vietnamese and Korean? I was hoping for something more useful. Like _English. Chinese._" He folded his hands icily. I started apologizing, but stopped myself.

"I do not speak either of those languages, but I am confident that will not stop me here."

"You studied at ToDai?" He rested his hands in his lap.

"Yes, I studied Social and International Relations. I have always loved travel." Stupid, why did I blabber about this?

"I take it you have no interest in business or science and engineering?" He pressed his hands onto his desk.

"Oh, I love business and technology." I lied quickly. "I am looking forward to learning even more about it, since I think it would be wonderful to get into business someday." Since when did I ever think that? I will blame it on the hangover.

Things progressed smoothly until he asked which KaibaCorp products I owned. I folded my hands in my lap and admitted that the only KaibaCorp product in our house was a duel disc my bother owned.

"Do you play duel monsters, Serenity?" I didn't even try to lie or pretend that I had any school at all in duel monsters. I told the straight truth.

"No."

After a few moments of silence he beckoned for Cho to escort me out and I knew I had the job.

* * *

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